


shame on a martyr

by parthevia



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Branding, Cheating, Choking, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Infidelity, Just a horrible relationship really, M/M, Minor Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight, No Lube, Rough Sex, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-23
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-26 00:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30097449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parthevia/pseuds/parthevia
Summary: This was not a man of class. He played a role in a production, and it was hard to remember how disgustingly vulgar he was behind the scenes.
Relationships: Kurapika/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	shame on a martyr

**Author's Note:**

> hi, sorry if you're one of my magi friends, i promise i'll get something to you soon. i lost my writing motivation 
> 
> this is just a draft i was working on on my phone periodically, ill write dominant kurapika like he deserves soon
> 
> this is horrible and it might end up deleted within an hour of posting it BAHAHA. don't read if you like leopika im sorry 
> 
> preferably don't read this if you know me

_right & wrong_

_•_

It was always about appearances, with him. Every minuscule, commonly overlooked detail was meticulously noted in the pages of his book, having the concept of being human down to an ornate science, by now. The tight smiles, with eyes that held a manufactured light in their core: planned, methodical, intentional. It was something that may be found alluring, but Kurapika was one to always know better. 

There was nothing even remotely charming about the monster who was holding him to the door of a seedy motel room, bruised fingers wrapped around the throat of the object of his affections. The pads pressed into Kurapika's clear flesh, leaving blemishes in it's tracks— to match another set of prominent markings, that Chrollo was currently choosing to press on.

In every meeting, Chrollo remained fully clothed, while the buttons of Kurapika's shirt were ripped open, and no amount of protest could have saved the article of clothing. 

That's why he was here, after all. 

Chrollo would do what he wanted without him having to ask. 

"You're disgusting, you know that?" There was no trace of passion in that tone, the inner workings of disgust woven into the syllables. It sent a chill up the younger's spine. He had gotten skilled at keeping his breathing under control when being choked by false divinity. Cool breath now pressed against Kurapika's ear, he allowed his eyes to flutter shut, closed to the dimly lit room. "I should carve the cross into your pretty skin, since you've chosen to allow others to mark it." The statement was punctuated with an unfriendly grin tugging at the cusp of the Spider's lips. " _Whore._ " 

"You're more fun when you're pretending to be a human," Kurapika hissed out, scarlet eyes meeting the soulless, sunken ones, of the latter. They never told much of a story, after all, but he always found himself coming back to listen to more of it. 

It made him feel ill to have such a putrid creature's hands on his body, but in the same thought, there was no adequate feeling that could rival it. 

He would be kissed breathless, until every inch of his mouth was swollen from teeth sinking into sensitive skin. And with every drop of blood he shed, he'd be falling further into the Hell that the Kurta clan was held in. By the hands of this very man. 

It wasn't on his agenda to suddenly be released from the grasp holding him against the door, somewhat dazed in the abrupt lack of contact. Chrollo moved away, noticeably rooting through the pockets of his gaudy jacket that had been already discarded to one of the motel's beds. With a pack of cigarettes being produced, the sound of him tapping the packaging against his palm made Kurapika's head spin. 

Because he should kill him. 

"Come, angel." Any hint of solace in that voice was nothing but a mere lie, something he had begun to excel at. It was haunting, to hear such empty words— he briefly wondered if the Spiders were aware of the true nature of this man. There was the flickering of a lighter, paper tube pressed to Chrollo's lips, now. 

Kurapika obliged, though, cautiously moving himself towards the center of the room, before being addressed once more. "You're quiet, tonight— something we need to talk about?" 

It had him holding back an unamused chuckle. "As if I'd ever confide my feelings in _you._ " Smoke swirled through the empty space, the scent making him feel somewhat ill, lungs uncomfortably trying to adjust to the setting. 

With a nonchalant hand gesture, he knew what was being asked of him, which made him somehow feel worse. On his knees, he didn't break eye contact with such a false god, knowing better than to stroke a psychopath's ego when he was practically at his mercy. 

He should kill him. 

His chin was now being lifted upwards by Chrollo's index finger, who was seated at the edge of one of the creaking bed frames. To say he didn't know what was happening next would be more than a blatant lie, as Kurapika didn't so much as wince as the cherry of the cigarette was being pressed into a hickey that was on his throat. 

"Who else are you fucking?" He was _dragging_ the fire in a line, now, and briefly took another drag from the cancer stick after successfully burning a horizontal line into a, regrettably, visible position. But he should have known better. Trying not to squeeze his eyes shut, he could feel his vision growing hazier from the adrenaline coursing through his system, now. Chrollo returned to make a vertical line, clearly watching the way Kurapika's skin would bubble for a mere second under the flame as it rested. 

He couldn't tell him who. 

He couldn't let him hurt him, or the other two. He wouldn't let Chrollo touch them, that was the only thing he knew for certain— there was enough present issue in trying to keep Hisoka away from them, but Chrollo would turn out to be a completely different story. 

And this was a mistake, becoming evident when the cigarette was removed from his neck, once again, replaced with an eerie grin sprawled across the Spider's cold features. "You don't need to tell me, but I will find out, Kurapika." With this, he already knew he had lost, and now there was a glaring reminder of it, sealed to his body. 

"Do not refer to me by name." 

"Oh, my dearest doesn't like his name being in my mouth?" Chrollo leaned forward, a chaste kiss being pressed to Kurapika's mouth. There was nothing sensual about it. "A pity, it's such a pretty name." 

He should kill him. 

They sat like that, for longer than they should of. When dealing with enemies, one would expect there to be a fired connection between their gazes. . . a midst of passion for those you despise, and perhaps Kurapika displayed that fateful emotion, still. But the only thing prominent in Chrollo's expression was only the glimpse of fascination, as he stared into that crimson glare. 

When he was with Leorio, there was nothing but absolute adoration being handed to Kurapika on a silver platter, but for some godforsaken reason, _that was never enough._

He was thinking too loudly for his own tastes. 

This was not a man of class. He played a role in a production, and it was hard to remember how disgustingly vulgar he was behind the scenes. 

"Does he fuck you until your throat is raw from screaming, Kurapika?" 

"Stop."

"All those hickeys not enough to get you off, now, is it, angel?" 

He loved Leorio. 

And he should kill this man. 

Kurapika was on his feet in a flash, a sharp from his suit pants pocket now clutched in his right hand— and he knew this was a mistake of a move, because it didn't indicate his bloodlust, and _Chrollo would be able to tell._

In a swift movement, he was shoved back-first onto the mattress, his head just nearly hitting the cheap headboard. Not allowing himself to get worked up by the immediate counter, Kurapika kept his eyes closed, his breathing surprisingly steady. There was no more knife in his hand. 

It was at his throat, an unsettling laugh accompanying the metal. 

"If you were so desperate to play, you could have just told me. I'm sorry for teasing you about him." 

There was no actual remorse in that, as his apologies never left the surface-level, filled with arrogance. 

But something was different. Perhaps it was the angle that Chrollo held the knife, or maybe it was how his breathing was legitimately shallowed, for the first time Kurapika had ever heard it. 

He shouldn't have come here. 

"What's his name." Straddling Kurapika, now, Chrollo kept the blade positioned right over the freshly branded cross, ever so gently pressing it into the raw skin. He wasn't that much bigger of a person than Kurapika, but reigned successful in holding his frame to the mattress. "I'll give you options, you know. Tell me or you'll have _my_ name sliced into your wrist."

The thought made his stomach lurch. 

"I could kill you right now." 

"Sure, yes. But tell me his name, Kurapika." 

It didn't matter what physical pain he had endured in his life, it didn't matter how skilled of a fighter he was, because the slash that was swiftly struck over the burn tore a gasp from his throat. This wasn't going to stop him from bantering back, glaring up at his assailant through thinly veiled eyelashes. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were _jealous._ " This ripped another harsh laugh from Chrollo, who appeared to be. . . faltering, but that had to be Kurapika's imagination, surely. 

There was no way this bloodthirsty creature had the capacity to experience such an emotion, but once more, Kurapika was surprised to see the true answer written all over the man's expression. This was accompanied by a swift movement of the knife now becoming lodged into Kurapika's left arm. 

His attempt to let out a scream was silenced by dirty fingers pushing past his lips, far enough down his throat that the taste quickly became unbearable, and he felt like gagging. Perhaps that was Chrollo's intention, however, as the observance brought a clear protest. Once they were withdrawn, Kurapika registered the blood dripping from him, staining the white sheets beneath him. 

What would his clansmen think, to know that their only survivor was letting their killer toy with him, like this? 

It didn't matter. 

"This devotion to masking his identity, Kurapika— color me impressed." He ripped the knife out of the forming wound, which released another pained groan from Kurapika. "Are there things he can do for you that I cannot, darling?" It was an innocent enough question, to be fair, and not one that Kurapika thought would be brought to the table after quite literally being stabbed, but it wasn't an unwelcome one, per se. It was one of those obscure moment where Chrollo's hands were a little less rough, eyes were a little less dominant. 

It was easier when Chrollo didn't pretend to be human, but more fun, when he did. 

Kurapika's cheek was cupped in a bloodied palm, the false sincerity present proving to be difficult to see through. "I'm certain nearly anyone could do more for me than you can. Can you touch me, already?" 

"Impatient. I'm hurt, Kurapika. Can you tell me those things?" Chrollo's thumb dragged across his jawline, going up to ghost over his spit covered lips. "I'm curious." 

"I'd rather die." 

"Tell me his name." 

He had grown tired of this back and forth, despite being incredibly stubborn. The truth was that he'd rather get this over with and be far away from Chrollo as quick as he could be. 

It genuinely wasn't his fault that he had ended up in this position, or so he liked to insist to himself on more occasions than he'd like to admit. He loved Leorio. He loved spending time with him, he loved laughing with him, he loved the fluttering kisses and the hushed whispers in-between trying to keep an eye on Killua and Gon. Messy, passionate love was the only sin hidden in the sheets, where every kiss meant something more than what it was at the baseline. Leorio would never hurt him, each feathered touch more delicate than the last, even if he knew that Kurapika would never break under his care. 

There was nothing more Kurapika could have asked for, in a normal world. In the ideal world, Kurapika wouldn't have his one of his hands wrapped around his cock in the midst of the evening, the other clasped around his throat, with Chrollo's name on the tip of his tongue every time he came close. He had everything he could have wanted, but Leorio couldn't ever successfully see the way his lover's lips would part in his post-orgasmic bliss, he would never get to hear the cries let out when he was overstimulated. 

It wasn't easy to hide the fact that Leorio could fuck him for hours and he'd never cum, while the man who slaughtered his entire clan could do it without ever taking off his own clothing— he'd always dismiss it with a smile, insisting that a wolf in sheep's clothing could not shed it's disguise for just any ordinary predicament. 

"How could you not know?" Kurapika was testing the waters, now. "What he has that you lack? Please, Chrollo." It was a _taunt._

It was obvious, what Leorio had that Chrollo never could. In another world, perhaps. 

"I'll kill him, if I see any more of his disgusting markings on you." This promise was stated directly against Kurapika's lips before they were forced into a rough kiss. "I wouldn't be surprised if you showed up here with his cum still dripping out of you, trembling and desperate to cum." He was being palmed through his dress slacks, trying to swallow the noises that were bleeding into their lip-lock. "Tell me his goddamned name, Kurapika." 

"Are you sure you're not bipolar?" This wasn't phrased as a joke, but rather another mocking statement lingering in the air. 

The weight of the bed shifted, and suddenly, Chrollo was no longer on top of him, to his very dismay. "You're irritating me." He didn't hold the exact essence of what frustration looked like, a rather bored look taking it's place on his face. "If you'd behave, we'd be through this quicker." 

Kurapika was trying to keep his collective façade on, desperate to keep the abhorrent lust shoved far down his throat. 

Chrollo could just leave, now. He could just up and leave him with absolutely no care in the world, and there would be no hesitation in him doing it. He'd have to feel the crushing guilt without having anything to even show for it. 

He'd lie alone tonight with nothing other than the harsh marks aligning his frame. 

An idea was surfacing. 

In an attempt to draw his enemy back to their current predicament, Kurapika was shoving his trousers down to his ankles— which definitely, was in fact, him letting his lust take over. His boxers depicted his obvious arousal, and it certainly had drawn the lifeless eyes back to him. 

He was told to _behave_ , huh. 

There was no room for patience or 'behaving,' here, he thought, as his underwear followed suit. He was fully aware of how difficult it was for Chrollo to resist touching him when the fruit of his labor was presenting itself in what might as well of been gift wrap. 

Fingers wrapped around his dripping cock, Kurapika just couldn't _help_ himself. It had been too long since he had gotten the privilege of cumming, a fact that was made obvious by how his body jolted with every feathered touch. He knew he wouldn't get what he wanted, even with his legs spread right in front of him, until he provided Chrollo with what he desired. 

There were hickeys aligning his milky thighs, which certainly helped out his concocted plan— the man was staring at the marks. 

Thumb encircling the tip of his cock to gather the moisture forming, he forced out the moan that he had been waiting to use.

" _Leorio."_

There was no audible response. 

Rather, Chrollo was fumbling with his own dress shirt— for the first time Kurapika had ever seen him do so. "You know, angel." Discarding the garment to the ground, Chrollo's lips upturned into a smile when they made eye contact once more. "You're going to regret that." 

"Please, please, _Leo—,_ " He gasped out once more, only cut off by two fingers being shoved into his open mouth. 

This couldn't of possibly worked to the extent it did. It was different from before, this wasn't to silence him by any means. Kurapika gagged, and they were swiftly removed, coated in a thin layer of saliva. 

It was humiliating to be manhandled like this, manuvered adequately so both digits could be roughly shoved directly into his asshole. 

He screamed. 

"I'm certain he doesn't get to see you like this, does he? What do you think they'd all think of you, Kurapika? But I know how you are. I know how you put your friends above all. You'd never risk their lives just to cum, now would you?" 

Chrollo didn't take much time in preparing him, and it was both anxiety-inducing as well as exhilarating. 

He should kill him, he thought, as a belt-buckle was being undone. 

He should kill him, he thought, as for the first time, Chrollo's cock was being pulled out of his dress pants, not bothering to fully take them off. 

He should kill him, he thought, as an obvious buildup of precum was prodding against his hole. 

He'd only ever been fucked by Leorio, and now Chrollo's hand was wrapped around his throat as he pushed in in one swift motion. There was no adjustment. There was no care.

Kurapika was spluttering, trying to blink the tears from his crimson optics as he adjusted to both the pain and shock his mind was swimming with. Chrollo was going to leave bruises. He was going to leave marks that were not placed there with the loving nature that Leorio held every time his hands graced his body. 

"I'll warn you," Chrollo spoke, trying to keep his own evident noises of pleasure swallowed. "It's hard to make me finish, but I intend to use this hole until I do." 

From their previous meetings, he'd grown used to being overstimulated until his cock was squirting and he was begging for a break, but it had never involved him being used for Chrollo's own release. He was no longer being choked, the positioning of his hands now resting on Kurapika's hips— each finger pressing hard enough to leave less than elegant bruises. "You're _tight,_ my dear."

With how Chrollo was fucking him, he would have never guessed that could even be a possibility. 

He reached to tug at himself, too aroused to care that he'd regret it if he came early— this was promptly stopped, Chrollo now holding his wrists above his head. "I don't think so, angel. You'll cum from my cock and my cock only. He'll never be enough for you again." 

Kurapika wanted to be kissed, and somehow, Chrollo knew this, without having to draw it out of him. He couldn't help but moan into the mouth that had captured his, wanton gasps of Chrollo's name being swallowed. 

He was practically drooling by the time their kiss had separated, each gasp being almost louder than the last. 

"Kurapika," Chrollo groaned next to his ear during a particularly hard thrust. The heat was coiling, inching towards that finish line, but it certainly didn't seem like his, daresay lover, was anywhere even near. 

He wished to be grabbing at every inch of exposed flesh he could, as Kurapika relished in this bliss— to be _manhandled,_ his thighs straining from being newly wrapped around Chrollo. The kissing had bruised both of their lips, reminiscent of wine stains from being intoxicated merely by one another. He wouldn't ask permission to touch Chrollo, yet. 

How he wished Chrollo could actually provide him with what he wanted, on all fronts. But it boiled down to the remembrance that this was a monster, not a man, and he would choke every inch of life out of Kurapika if he so chose to. 

His jaw was being grabbed, roughly, Chrollo's thumb wiping the drool from his chin, ghosting over his lips. With his wrists released, Kurapika was able to _finally_ get his hands on him. Choosing to card his fingers through the sweaty black hair, he experimentally tugged at a bunch of the locks, curious to see how he could get the man to react. 

And react he did. 

Without warning, Chrollo pulled out, and made the move to force Kurapika onto his stomach, the rough grip on his hips only worsening. With the rustling of fabric, he assumed the remainder of Chrollo's clothing was being shed, his own pants accompanying them.

There was a sudden coolness being pressed to his cheek, startling him from his head's position on this pillow. 

"You're going to call him." 

"Excuse me?" With an incredulous look directed backwards, he realized he'd need to play the game to receive his reward, even if it was one he never wanted to participate in. 

A thin black eyebrow was raised in reply, as if to question whether or not Kurapika intended to defy him, and it wasn't worth the effort to do so, he thought briefly, as the pads of his fingers unlocked the mobile device. Through the contacts, he located the one of interest: "Leorio 💛," it read. 

He hesitated. "What exactly is your reasoning behind this?" Only to receive a sideways smile, Chrollo clearly unwilling to reveal the thought processes behind the behavior. 

So he dialled, and it immediately went through on the first ring. 

"Kurapika! Where _are_ you? You left me with two monsters, y'know." 

Chrollo's cock was rubbing against his thoroughly fucked-out hole, beckoning Kurapika to try and reply to Leorio's queries. 

"I-I was calling to let you know," Abruptly, Chrollo's cock was buried to the hilt in Kurapika's ass, and he nearly choked. He bit his already bruised knuckles, trying to remember why he was doing this in the first place. "I won't be h-home, tonight, likely, so please don't wait for me." 

He wasn't sure he could get himself out of this stupid motel room after this, and if he didn't tell Leorio, he'd of blown up his phone later. 

Chrollo was hitting his sweet-spot oh so nicely, the thrusts shallow and slow as to not reveal their current predicament. "Oh, okay." Leorio sounded disheartened, but not as though the world was ending. "Everything's okay, right? If it's not, I'll show up wherever you are and give them a piece of my mind!" He was ridiculous as always. 

"Everything's fine." 

"Okay. I love you, Kurapika." 

There was a sudden hand reaching around his waist, and tugging on his cock, _hard._ The combination was absolutely overstimulating, and he could feel tears pricking at his eyes as he came. Back arching, he wished Chrollo hadn't influenced him to have such a quiet orgasm. 

"I love you, too." He gasped out, frantically searching for the end call button before Leorio could drag out the conversation any further. Cum dripped down his inner thighs, and Chrollo wasn't quiet done yet, apparently. 

Because there was now a sticky hand in his hair, pulling his neck to strain backwards as his own dick softened. 

Everything was _too much._

"Haaah, please, God," Kurapika managed, the cellphone still clutched in his right hand. "It's too much, it's too much, _Chrollo,_ " It was starting to hurt, being overworked to this extent. 

Apparently that was the catalyst, because Chrollo had leaned forward, shoving himself as far as he could. 

A part of him wished he hadn't finished inside of him, but the other side was absolutely exhilarated by the feeling of being spent, while feeling so complete. 

Chrollo removed himself from Kurapika, turning him back to face him, colliding their lips in a messy, haphazard kiss. 

"My dearest angel," he murmured, their foreheads pressed against one another. Kurapika didn't protest, for he was far too tired to do so. "You're flawless, are you aware?" 

"Far from it." 

It was both haunting and calming to share the bed with this man, their bodies intertwined, even if it was just for a brief, fleeting evening. 


End file.
